


Maybe the real friend was the coffee we made along the way

by JustGalsBeingPals



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain Marvel (2019), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, BAMF Angie Martinelli, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Badass mom Maria Rambeau, College Student Peter Parker, Every relationship has its own space, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gay Panic, God save the Queen's Bean, How I Met Your Mother References, Lucky the pizza dog - Freeform, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Multi, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Peggy Carter Needs a Hug, Peggy Carter is TIRED of their bullshirt, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Queer Themes, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sharon Carter is a gay disaster, Soft Girlfriends, Stay hydrated everyone, Teacher Steve Rogers, Trans Peter Parker, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, engineering student bucky barnes, non-graphic depictions of past torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25488214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGalsBeingPals/pseuds/JustGalsBeingPals
Summary: 5 times Peggy and Angie helped their people and 1 time their people helped them, AKA: these queers stick together.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Kate Bishop/America Chavez, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peggy Carter & Angie Martinelli & Everyone, Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli, Sharon Carter/Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 70





	Maybe the real friend was the coffee we made along the way

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I wrote this thing during quarantine and only now found the will to clean it up enough to make it sort-of-enjoyable. Disclaimer: I don't own or work in a coffee shop or any other job mentioned here. My knowledge comes from that great place we call the internet, so if I made any terrible mistakes in that regard I apologize. I also apologize for any grammar errors, since this is not beta'ed and English isn't my first language.  
> That being said, this is purely, 100% self-indulgent because sometimes you need some Cartinelli being unofficial moms.  
> Hope you all enjoy this product of my soft, gay heart.

**Maybe the real friend was the coffee we made along the way**

_Or: 5 times Peggy and Angie helped their people and 1 time their people helped them_

There was an old coffee shop in Brooklyn. The city, of course, was full to the brim with nice little coffee shops and each of them had its own share of hipsters and locals, as coffee shops tend to do. 

Except, while these other shops came and went, this one had been in the same place since 1965 and no one really knew how or why. 

Over the years, the Queen’s Bean had seen the city change with its people: it had seen riots and peaceful marches, laughs and tears, life and death on the streets of New York. Peggy was inclined to believe that the shop had a life of its own, at that point. 

It was a small family-owned business and Margaret “Peggy” Carter had been managing it for the past fifteen years, after her parents had retired and gone to Florida, and she’d been doing a bloody good job at it, if she said so herself. 

Of course, she was not alone: her wife of nine years, Angie, was as helpful as she was dear and an absolute delight to have around, an opinion shared by every single customer that had ever put foot in the shop. 

Peggy’s parents had always been happy to offer a warm cup of tea to anyone who needed it, never judging when a customer came to them for a nice British tea and a piece of advice. That had lead to the Queen’s Bean becoming famous around certain circles of people who didn’t really have any other place to go. 

They had always been welcoming and homey and Peggy never wanted to be any less. 

As the bell on the door chimed, she raised her head from her ledger and smiled at the client. 

“Welcome to the Queen’s Bean, how can I help you?” 

  
  


1.

“So how are my favourite girls doing today?” Bucky asked with his bright smile from over the counter. 

“Quit it Barnes, you got too many free coffees from me already” Angie replied, already making his usual order. 

Bucky had been a regular at the shop for the past year and knew perfectly well that, despite her complaints, Angie was always happy to give him a discount at least. He liked to think it was because of his charm and he had never been contradicted on that front yet. 

Peggie winked at him while she served an Earl Grey to another client. 

Bucky liked The Queen’s Bean: it was peaceful, the record always playing soothing jazz music, the workers were all extremely nice to everyone who wasn’t rude to them. Plus, nobody looked twice at his empty left sleeve. 

Angie and Peggy had seen him walk in one day, a haunted look in his eyes and bags under them, short one arm and barely verbal enough to utter his order; they had immediately decided to unofficially adopt him. He wasn’t sure how much older than him they were and he thought it would be rude to ask, but he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. After two tours in Afghanistan, a mission which had taken his left arm - and two of his teammates - and a year as a POW, he was much too happy to be home. 

"Home" was a weird concept, indeed. His house didn't feel like home. Neither did his parents', although they did their very best to make it feel so; it was harder after Becca had gone to college. 

Bucky felt more inclined to call the whole Brooklyn "home", because even if it was different from the one he remembered before his tours, it wasn't unusual: the stores were always changing, gentrification had been happening for years before he left, so really, even if Brooklyn felt different, it was nothing strange. 

But the little coffee shop, it felt a lot like the safest place in the whole city, for him. 

So, he became a regular, always flirting with Peggy one day and Angie the other, just to see them scoff at him and then smile not-so-secretly before making his coffee. 

There were other people behind the counter sometimes, a girl, a boy and another woman who looked to be about his age. He never flirted with them - two out of three were teenagers, which, _ew_ \- but the easy atmosphere of the place and their outgoing personalities had encouraged him to befriend them. 

Really, he owed a lot to the Queen’s Bean: it was thanks to Peggy and Angie’s kindness that he had felt brave enough to seek help. After regular therapy sessions and much, _much_ coffee (some of which had been kindly offered by the two women) he had found the courage to get back in school and study for a PhD. If everything went according to plan, he was soon going to be able to design his own prosthetic limb and offer help to those who needed it. 

And then.. 

And then, _he_ had come in the shop and Bucky could have sworn he heard the angels sing. 

He was, to put it simply, built like a brickhouse and Bucky had wanted to climb him like a tree since day one. Of course, that wasn't all there was to it: the guy had the most gorgeous blue eyes and he sweetly kissed Peggy and Angie on the cheek every time Bucky saw him come into the shop. A family friend, the owners had said, whose name was Steve. Peggy had said "He's the worst bloody idiot I've ever met" with her stern voice and soft smile, so Bucky knew Steve was _good._

He'd had a chance to see it for himself one day, when a customer had made a rude, unrepeatable comment about America - who had been kind enough to serve him his drink in the first place - and, before anyone could react, Steve had grabbed the front of his shirt and brought him outside without saying a word. 

Bucky did not usually condone violence - ironic, looking back at all he'd had to do in the army - but _damn_ did he hope Steve would kick the dickhead's ass so hard he saw stars and stripes. 

When Steve had come back in the shop, America had fiercely reminded him that she could have handled it herself, then she had hugged him. 

Steve looked like he gave really good hugs. 

The first interaction they'd had was one rainy day, when Steve, in a rush, had been about to forget his umbrella while getting out - it had stopped raining - and Bucky had called him back, awkwardly. Steve had thanked him and smiled at him and Bucky could have died right then and there. 

Peggy had looked at him knowingly then and _of course,_ he should have known it wasn't going to stop there. 

Next time Steve had put a foot through the door, Peggy had used every excuse to praise Bucky in front of him. 

"Oh Steve, our Bucky here got an internship at Stark Industries! We're offering tea to celebrate" 

"Steve, darling, Bucky gave me his bubbe's recipe for these cookies and they're so good! You should try" 

"Steve, my dear, you know how our coffee machine broke yesterday? Bucky fixed it!" 

So, yeah, Bucky was embarrassed but he didn't have the heart to tell Peggy to stop. Besides, her comments got Steve to say hi and smile at him every time they came across each other, which was an incredibly positive development. 

Bucky, though, hadn't yet been able to step up and ask him out. 

It wasn't supposed to be so damn hard. 

It was just, every time he tried to talk to Steve, he ended up getting distracted, either by other people interrupting them or by Steve's sweet smile and innocent eyes. 

It wasn't _his_ fault, really. 

And all his failed attempts at asking him out had allowed them to get to know each other a little better, at least. They even went out for drinks with Sharon and their common friend Sam, sometimes. Bucky now knew that Steve was an art teacher in high school and that he sold his own paintings on the side, that he was born and raised in New York, that he had been small and sickly before puberty finally hit him at 20. Bucky was sure he would have liked him anyway, twinky or not. 

After several months of this, Bucky was confident to call them _friends._

And it was _enough._ For real. No matter how many annoyed looks he received from Angie and Peggy both. And America. And Peter. And sometimes Sharon too. 

That particular day, he was doing research for an essay, sipping his regular cinnamon latte - which the shop served all year around - when he saw Steve walk in. He waved happily at him and Steve smiled, but he didn't seem to have his usual brightness with him. He went up to the counter and Peggy looked at him for a second before filling a plate up with two blueberry muffins. She then brewed some tea - Bucky couldn't see what kind from that distance - and sent Steve on his way. Which was, apparently, right where Bucky was. 

"Hey Buck" 

Steve had begun calling him "Buck" about a month earlier and Bucky had never looked back. 

"Hey there Rogers. How… Uhm…" Bucky didn't know if it was okay to ask how he was feeling. It was obvious that he wasn't okay and he was afraid he would be overstepping unspoken boundaries. 

"It's okay, you can ask. I know I don't look my best today" he gave a self-deprecating chuckle and Bucky would have absolutely none of that. 

"You still look great Stevie. And you can tell me what's wrong or we can just sit here, talk about anything and share those muffins" 

Steve's smile got a bit brighter at that. Bucky gave himself an imaginary pat on the back. 

"We've been friends for a while, it's only fair that you know this about me. And you can get your own damn muffins" they both chuckled at that. 

"You don't owe me anything, but if you want, I'm here to listen" 

Steve took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. 

"My mother died about seven years ago and the anniversary is coming up" 

_Oh._

Bucky didn't know what to say to that. _I'm sorry_ felt useless, trite, fake. 

So, he brushed Steve's hand on the table, to make sure it was okay to take it. Steve nodded imperceptibly, giving Bucky permission. 

"Thank you for telling me. I don't know how it feels to lose a parent, but I know it's hard to face death. And you're so brave, Steve" 

Steve smiled sadly and squeezed his hand, saying "Thank you" in such a soft, small voice that Bucky almost didn't hear him. 

They shared the muffins, after that. 

That conversation had brought them closer together than ever, much to Peggy and Angie's (and everyone's, really) delight. They saw each other more often, not only at the coffee shop. They did movie nights together with a few of their friends at one or the other's house. They even slept over, a couple of times. They confided in each other; Bucky had told him things about his time as a POW that only his therapist knew about. They cried on each other's shoulder. 

One evening, Bucky was in Steve’s apartment, bent on his anatomy textbook, occasionally eating his share of the Mexican takeout they had ordered earlier. Steve was grading tests, sometimes rubbing his tired eyes. 

“Bucky, how’s it going over there?” Steve said, his head resting on the back of the couch. 

“Not bad, I think. Maybe tonight I won’t burn this damned thing, after all” 

Steve chuckled at that, then looked at him with his best puppy eyes and Bucky _knew_ he was doomed, whatever Steve was going to ask him. 

“I still have two classes to grade… If you’re almost finished, perhaps later you could do the dishes?” 

“You have a dishwasher” Bucky said, already convinced but trying to protest anyway. 

“Yes, but I prefer to only charge it once a day. You know, for the environment. Besides, it’s just a couple of plates and cutlery!” Bucky didn’t think it was possible, but Steve had evidently upped his puppy-eyes game because it was getting harder and harder to resist.   
“So this is why you keep inviting me, huh” 

“Precisely” Steve smirked, the little shit. 

“Whatever. Next time I’m throwing this very heavy textbook on your nose. Maybe it’ll make it better, who knows. It certainly can’t get worse” he sighed, getting up and picking up the empty plates. 

“What the fuck do you have against my nose, Barnes?” 

Bucky just laughed and ducked as Steve threw a pen at him. The domesticity of it made a place inside his ribs warm up and swell with contentment. Even if he had to do the dishes. 

It was great, except Bucky still hadn't officially asked him out. Not that there hadn’t been occasions - there had been _plenty_ \- but everytime he tried, he was struck with the thought, “What if that ruins everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?” which was pretty immature of him, he was aware. Steve was not so shallow that he would take offense and refuse to ever see him again over that. Realistic worst case scenario, Steve would let him down gently and say that he was sorry, but he was not interested in men. It was plausible, since Bucky had never seen him show any feelings of attraction towards other men and he knew from a reliable source (read: Peggy) that he had dated Sharon at some point. It hadn’t worked out, but what if there were leftover feelings? What if it made things awkward at the shop? Bucky couldn’t live with that. The Queen’s Bean had been a safe space for him for so long that giving it up would be unbearable. 

So he never tried anything with Steve and he was mostly content that way, although more sexually and romantically frustrated than he would have liked. 

One day they were sitting together at the shop, Bucky working on a project on his laptop and Steve doing the same on his own, when they heard a loud _“Oh, for fuck’s sake”_ and both looked up to see Angie putting her hand on her wife’s mouth, smiling at them innocently. 

Then she turned to Peggy and whispered something angrily, to which Peggy rolled her eyes and gestured wildly with her arms. They were attracting the customers’ attention, but they didn’t seem to care. 

They figured it was private business so they shrugged and went back to work, only to be interrupted once again by Peggy, who was now walking furiously towards them with a plate in her hand. 

She placed it on the table as hard as she could without breaking it, then turned around and walked back, Angie facepalming all the way. 

Steve and Bucky looked at the contents of the plate: three blueberry muffins with “You” “Bloody” “Idiots” written on them with pink frosting, a word on each treat. 

“What the fuck just happened” 

“I don’t know pal, you asking me?” 

They raised their eyes at the same time, looking at each other, before bursting out laughing. Steve’s laugh was so nice, it was like happiness took over him completely and he just _had_ to express it with his whole body and he was looking at him with that look in his eyes he always had when Bucky was with him and- 

_Oh._

So, Bucky had been an idiot, but so had Steve, apparently, because he was sure that Steve had come to the same realization when he stopped laughing abruptly. 

“So uhm” 

“Yeah” 

“Wanna, uh, have dinner sometime? Like, tomorrow?” _Shit Bucky, that could have been smoother._

“I’d really like that, yeah” 

Bucky liked to think that they would have realized things anyway without Peggy’s help. Still, he was thankful beyond measure and didn’t know how he was ever going to repay the woman, but he was sure that he and Steve were going to figure it out, together, just like everything else in their life from then on. 

  
  


2.

Sharon was _so tired._ She usually enjoyed helping out at her aunt's coffee shop, but her week had honestly been _the worst_ and she didn't feel like dealing with the chaos of rush hour. 

When she wasn't working as a bodyguard for Pepper Potts and the shop happened to need extra help, she was always happy to give a hand. Aunt Peggy had basically raised her since her parents had died when she was ten. Aunt Angie had come along five years later and their family had instantly fallen in love with her, much like aunt Peggy. So, really, it was a pleasure to help out two of the women who had shaped her identity, who had helped make her the strong person she was now. 

But that particular week miss Potts had been extremely busy with meetings and galas that required Sharon's presence, she hadn't slept more than eight hours in total and she was too damn tired to deal with asshole customers on a Saturday at lunch time. 

"For the last time, ma'am, we do not serve tofu hot dogs, I'm terribly sorry but you're gonna need to choose something else. We have a whole display of vegan and gluten free food which you can choose from" _I swear to the Lord, if she asks to speak to the manager I will end her._

"Listen here young lady, I would like to speak to the manager" _Fuck this._

"And I would like to sleep right now, but we can't always get what we want, can we?" she heard a soft snort coming from her right. She looked over and _holy mother of Hades._

The most gorgeous woman she had ever seen was staring at her with a mischievous light in her eyes, making her forget entirely about the random suburban mom in front of her. 

She had red hair and forest green eyes, which was, admittedly, enough to make Sharon's eyes happy, but her smirk was what made her weak on her knees. 

_Shot through the heart and you're to blame._

The woman in front of her was probably still rambling, but Sharon was too gone to pay her any attention. 

"What seems to be the problem, here?" she heard aunt Peggy say, with her thick British accent. 

_Why does she even have that? She was born in New York._

Sharon supposed it was because her grandparents never lost their accent and had passed it down to their daughter. She still remembered her father speaking like that, before the accident.

"Your employee refuses to serve me what I asked for" the annoying customer said, looking triumphant. 

"I doubt that could in any way be true, ma'am, but you might like a free espresso and a discount card for next time, for your trouble" 

The woman smirked and Sharon _knew._ She just _knew_ it had been her intention all along. 

She looked at her aunt, betrayed, but her protests were silenced with a _look._ Peggy then made the espresso and took a card from a drawer under the counter. 

_Wait, that's not where we keep our bonus cards-_

And then it hit her. 

Peggy smiled at the woman while she was walking away and, when the door closed with a chime of the bell, she smirked. 

"You don't have to waste your energy for fights not worth fighting, my dear girl" she said, before walking in the back room with a final wink. 

"So what was that about?" the gorgeous woman asked and _holy cow what a raspy voice._

Sharon reprimanded herself for being horny on main and tried - mostly succeeding - to keep her cool. 

"Aunt Peggy gave her the 'Don't show your face here again' card. It's one we keep for special kinds of customers" She was proud that her voice hadn't trembled even a little. 

"I see" the woman giggled, her eyes crinkling. 

She then leaned forward on the counter and Sharon tried _very hard_ not to let her eyes roam lower than necessary. 

"So, now that that's been taken care of… What can I get you?" 

"A lemon and poppy seed donut and a Cayenne pepper donut to go, please" 

"Coming right up!" _gee, that was so over the top._

When the woman tried to pay, Sharon stopped her. 

"It's on the house" she said, smiling brightly. 

"Thank you, then. And I'm sorry you had to deal with that shit earlier" 

"Hazards of the job" 

The woman looked at her from under her long lashes and Sharon almost died of heart attack. 

"Have a good day!" and she was gone before Sharon could do anything but blink. 

"Aunties, I am in love" she said over a plate of steak that night. Angie looked at her curiously, while Peggy didn't even look up from her own dinner. 

"I noticed, darling" she said, right before finishing the last of her steak. 

"Now now, mind telling me more? You haven't said that since Carol came out in 2015" Angie inquired. 

"So today a random woman wanted a tofu hot dog and we don't serve that, you know we don't, so I told her several times because she didn't want to listen and then she threatened to call the manager - and, by the way, thanks for that aunt Pegs - and this girl saw the whole scene and she's so fucking gorgeous aunt Angie, like you wouldn't believe" Sharon recounted, gesticulating, with an entire galaxy in her eyes. 

"Watch your bloody mouth, young lady" Peggy said, with mock indignation. Sharon rolled her eyes. She had picked up her foul language from her, after all. 

"Aw, you remind me of when I met your aunt Peggy. It was love at first sight, right, English?" 

"Indeed. I remember it like it was yesterday, you coming up at the shop with your hair all wet from the pouring rain and that transparent shirt-" 

"TMI aunt Peggy!" Sharon shouted, covering her eyes. Sometimes she still felt like a ten-year-old with them, but she wouldn't have traded those moments for the world. 

Angie laughed while Peggy shook her head, amusement clear on her features. 

The next time Sharon's help was needed at the shop was a couple of weeks later. She was much more relaxed, then, because her boss - and, by extension, Sharon - had had a light week, only needing her for three gallery openings. 

She was cleaning a table when the beautiful redhead walked in. Her eyes lit up, only to dim again when, behind the woman, another one came in, a brunet with her hair in a tight bun. 

They were smiling lovingly at each other and Sharon felt her heart cry. 

She looked back down at the table and kept working, perhaps harder than necessary. 

She didn't need that in her life. 

Besides, it had only been a small crush on a client. So what if her hopes had been crushed without mercy? It wasn't even the first time that had happened. The last relationship she'd had had been with Steve and the breakup hadn't been easy for any of them, even though they had no problems now and had recovered their friendship without much trouble. Besides, now Steve and Bucky had been circling around each other for a while and she was incredibly happy for them, although frustrated at their obliviousness. 

Before that, she'd had even worse breakups. Really, this was nothing. 

She kept telling herself that, never looking up from the table until she heard the bell chime again and Peter say "Have a nice day!" from the counter. 

"What has that table ever done to you?" Angie said, bringing her a glass of water. 

"She came here with someone. They were obviously in a relationship" 

Angie looked sadly at her before hugging her tightly. It was exactly what she needed, so she gave in and hugged her back, breathing her aunt's rose and cookies perfume deeply. 

She didn't care about the clients or Peter seeing. She just wanted to be held by her aunt like she was seventeen and going through her first breakup again. 

"Good morning Sharon! I have a special task for you today" Miss Potts said cheerily. Sharon hadn't slept much that night, so she really wasn't in a happy and carefree mood that morning, but Pepper was sweet and nice and also her boss, so she held her tongue behind a tight smile. 

"I have chosen you to train the new recruits in security. It's a big responsibility, but you've been with me for years, I trust you to do a fantastic job" 

Pepper then told her to go down at the Human Resources department to get the files of the new employees she was going to babysit. Not precisely in those words, but still. 

Sharon reminded herself that she loved this job and that Pepper Potts was the best boss ever, her aunts excluded. 

The elevator stopped at the 31st floor, JARVIS informing her they had made it to the destination. She thanked him - it? Him - as usual and wandered down the hallway where several people were running around in a frenzy. She decided to ignore that - it was pretty much standard for HR - and knocked on the head of the department's door. 

"Come in" said a clipped voice. Sharon opened the door. 

What welcomed her was the sight of a busy-looking woman, who definitely had the air of a boss, with her tight blue dress and her dark hair up in a tight bun and-

_Now wait a fucking minute._

She looked really familiar, but she couldn't immediately place her. 

"How can I help you?" she looked like she didn't want to waste time anyway, so Sharon put off her mental research. 

"Uh, I'm Carter, miss Potts' personal bodyguard. She told me to come her to get the files of the new recruits" 

"Very well, I have them right here" and then she opened a drawer under her desk and that's when the proverbial lightbulb in Sharon's head lit up. 

"Wait! You're the other-" her mouth managed to say without her consent, before she had to physically cover it with her hand. It was too late. 

The woman was looking at her with confusion and suspicion in her eyes. 

"The other _what?"_

"Uhm, sorry, it's just, uhm…" 

_Think Sharon, think!_

"You just look a lot like that one Canadian singer, err, what was her name… Robin… Shiny?" _what the hell Carter._

"Sparkles?" 

"Yes! Her! You… Look like… Robin… Sparkles" at that point she was praying to be swallowed up by a hole in the ground, or that miss Potts would request her urgent services, or that this woman - Maria Hill, it said on the metal plaque on the desk - would put her out of her misery and kill her. She looked like she could kill somebody with her heels. Or with anything else. 

"I've been told I do. I'm not sure if it's a compliment or not" she said with a self-deprecating laugh. 

"Well, you look much prettier than her anyway" 

_Sharon Michelle Carter will you ever stop putting your foot in your mouth._

"Uhm… Thanks" the woman smiled and looked down, embarrassed and… Pleased? 

"So I'm just gonna take these files" 

"Yes, that's what you came here for, miss Carter" 

"Call me Sharon" 

"Okay, Sharon" Maria Hill gave her the files, still with a faint smile on her lips. Before she could get out of the room and breathe again, she was stopped by a quick "You can call me Maria". 

She smiled and left without waving dorkily, which she counted as a win. 

"What the hell am I doing" she kept repeating herself that night, safely under her soft covers, smothering her face with a pillow. 

The new recruits kept her busy, but they were learning quickly and she was satisfied with everybody's work, including her own. She was pretty proud of her teaching abilities and, apparently, so was Pepper, because a month later she got a raise. 

She hadn't seen either Maria or the redhead anymore during that time, so her mind was mostly free from thoughts of the two women, thankfully. 

Her peace of mind ended when they both walked in the Queen's Bean while she was at the cash register. 

America looked worriedly at her from the coffee machine - by then the entire staff plus several of their friends knew about her non-existent love life - but Sharon waved her off and decided to put on her big girl pants. 

"Good afternoon and welcome to the Queen's Bean, what can I get you?" she asked politely. She saw recognition in Maria's eyes and prayed that nothing awkward would happen. 

"Hello Sharon! You haven't been down at HR lately" 

_Of fucking course._

"My presence wasn't needed" she said smiling innocently. 

She could see confusion in the redhead's eyes. 

"Right… Yeah" Maria trailed off awkwardly. 

The redhead took matters into her own hands. 

"Honey, we're holding up the line!" she scolded the other woman even though there was only one other person behind them, and then, directed at Sharon "We would like a cinnamon latte, a caramel macchiato and two chocolate donuts, please" she said, smiling sweetly. 

Sharon's heart skipped a beat and she cursed internally every Greek, Roman and Egyptian god she knew. 

"That would be 12.50" she rang them up and gave them the recipe. 

"Hey, so, I was wondering… When do you get off work?" 

Sharon stared baffled at the redhead, then at Maria, then at the other woman again. 

"It's fine if you don't want to-" 

"About an hour, yeah, an hour from now" she quickly said after overcoming her shock. 

"We'll see you later then. Oh, by the way, my name is Natasha" the now-named woman said, smirking at her. Maria waved while they got further along the counter to get their drinks and donuts. 

Sharon wasn't sure if she had dreamed that or if it had really happened, but the next customer was already up so she had to put her personal matters behind her work persona. 

"Good afternoon and welcome to Queen's Bean, what can I get you?" 

"So, uh… Hi?" 

Sharon internally scolded herself for sounding like a shy teenager. 

The two women had waited for her at one of the tables. They both looked happy to see her. 

"Hi Sharon. You must be confused" Maria said, motioning for her to sit. She did. 

"Quite" 

Natasha smiled softly, her green eyes lighting up. 

"To put it simply, we’re interested in you and we would like to go out with you if you're up for it" 

_Oh. Of course._

What had she been thinking? They wanted to be friends with her. She was going to say yes, of course, they seemed like interesting people and she would have been happy to even just be their friend-

"So, do you agree to go on a date with us? We understand if you're uncomfortable with a polyamorous relationship" 

_On a_ what _?_

"No! I mean, yes! I agree, I'm, uh, up for it. Down for it. Whatever, I'm in" 

They both smiled at that and Sharon thought she would melt on the floor. 

They exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up the next day at 5 for a movie and then dinner. 

That night, she picked up her phone and called her aunt Peggy. 

"I've literally just won the relationship lottery" she said after the ritual "Hello?", unable to stop the huge grin on her face. 

  
  


3.

Maria had found the place one morning while going to work. She really needed a coffee and had a few minutes to spare, so she had come in. 

The woman at the counter had smiled at her and greeted her with a bright "Good morning and welcome to the Queen's Bean, what can I get you?". 

"Three shots of espresso please" she was going to stop there, but then she added "and a cronut" because she wanted to treat herself, dammit, she deserved it. 

The cronut was good and the coffee woke her up like nothing else, so she decided to come back. 

When she had the morning shift, she would stop by and order from two to five shots of espresso, depending on whether or not she had slept that night, sometimes adding a sweet treat or a sandwich. 

She always gave the best tips she could, because she knew, as a clerk, how hard it was to work in retail. 

She missed her days as an Air Force captain, when she didn't need to worry about rude customers. Although, then she had had to worry about rude superiors instead. 

But that was her life now. 

Monica was approaching 6 and she wanted a big birthday with her kindergarten friends. She was obviously going to get it, but Maria wasn't ready to face the _parents._ They were nice enough but they could be _a lot_ to handle. 

Their house wasn't even big enough to host the party Monica wanted. 

She went to the shop and asked for six shots of espresso, that morning. 

"Rough day?" the woman behind the counter said conversationally, while she worked the coffee machine. 

"More like rough month" she replied, with a grimace. 

"It does feel like that sometimes, doesn't it?" and then "There you go. It's on the house" 

Maria was so grateful for small nice gestures. 

"Thank you so much, really. Hope you have a great day, miss" 

"Please, just call me Angie. And you too!" 

Maria stopped right before opening the door. 

"Do you happen to allow birthdays in here?" 

Angie lit up like a firework. 

Right after The Accident (as she had taken to call it), Maria had retired from the Air Force and decided to build a new life in her dear New Orleans. 

She got a job as secretary in a low-grade company, she lived in a studio apartment with no roommates and she was seeing a therapist along with V. A. Meetings twice a week. 

She was doing good and was confident in her ability to achieve any goal she put her mind to. 

She was considering going to college when she met Frank. 

Frank was an accountant in the same company. He was a sweet guy, he liked to collect stamps and watch ice hockey. 

He was nice and kind and Maria had a bit of a crush on him. 

Then one night they got drunk with their coworkers and went home together. 

When Maria found out about Monica, she immediately told Frank who, surprisingly enough, had wanted nothing to do with her. 

So Maria decided to fuck off and raise her child alone, because she deserved better than someone like Frank and also because the tension at the workplace had lead her boss to fire her. 

_Go to Hell Frank. Seriously._

New York had welcomed her with open arms and urine-smelling streets. 

She found a job as a cashier in a clothing store and another small studio apartment, smaller than the one she'd had in Louisiana but it would have had to be enough. 

When Monica was born, she was confident that she could make it on her own. And she had. 

Her child was the light of her life, her job wasn't great but it wasn't bad either and her life was slowly going upwards. Plus, she had been looking into finding another job as a mechanic, which was much closer to her field of expertise. 

_Good job, Maria._

On Monica's sixth birthday, they went to the shop early to help set everything up. The owners had been so kind and helpful throughout everything and Monica was so, so happy. 

Her friends had brought her many gifts and Maria knew she was going to be ecstatic when she saw the bike waiting for her at home. 

The whole thing had made a bit of a dent in her savings, but it was okay because it was for Monica and Monica deserved everything. 

It had been a beautiful day. 

So of course, _of fucking course_ something had to ruin it. 

"Hey mom, that woman looks like aunt Carol!" Monica said, pointing towards the person who had just entered the shop. 

Monica knew about aunt Carol because Maria had shown her many pictures of their time in the Air Force together. She asked about her more than she asked about her father. Maria didn't know if that was a good thing or not and what, exactly, that said about _her._

Maria had always indulged her when she was in the mood for Aunt-Carol-related questions, but that didn't mean it was pleasant to talk about. 

Carol had been the most important person in her life for years before The Accident took her away. 

Monica didn't know the details because, to be fair, neither did Maria. It had been a top secret solo mission, the only one who knew about it was the colonel and he had - not unkindly, she had to admit - refused to disclose information to her. 

The disappearance of special ops commander Carol Danvers was a mystery wrapped up in an enigma, but what she’d always said to Monica was that her aunt Carol was watching her from above, like a guardian angel, flying on her 20 C-146A Wolfhound in Heaven. 

Deep down, she had always had that _feeling,_ that small, vicious seed of hope in her heart, that the only person she would ever call the love of her life was still alive. 

Maria had never, ever allowed herself to really feel that hope as more than a passing thought when she was drunk. 

She was beginning to think her instinct had been right. 

The woman who was now at the counter was wearing a jean jacket and a baseball cap, but her long blonde hair was visible and so similar to Carol’s. But it was impossible to base her entire existence on a haircut, right? 

Except, the woman turned around, then, to seek for a free table - there were only few left - and her face became clear as day. 

Monica was back to talking animatedly to one of her friends - she was pretty sure his name was Miles - but Maria couldn’t have looked away if the world had ended at that very moment. 

It did feel a little like that, though. 

Rosy cheeks, warm brown eyes and a soft smile on her thin lips. 

Their eyes met for a moment, but Maria saw no sign of recognition in her. 

But it _had_ to be her. It couldn’t have been a hallucination, she’d never had those before so why start now? 

She couldn’t stop staring and the woman with Carol’s face had noticed. She was now looking at her, confused, her eyebrows furrowed like she was trying to place her in a clear memory. 

Maria got up without even realizing it and walked towards her. 

“I know you, don’t I?” 

“You do. You don’t remember me?” 

“I’m… not sure. How do we know each other?” 

Maria was shaking a little. She hoped Carol wouldn’t notice. 

“We were together” she stopped for a moment, when she saw a blush appear on Carol’s cheeks. “In the Air Force” she added quickly, after. Carol grimaced. 

“Oh. Yeah, I- I think I remember something like that. Everything is just so… blurry” 

She didn’t seem to be lying, but at that moment Maria would have believed a guy with a tinfoil hat screaming aliens. 

She got a good look at the woman. She looked pretty good, her jean jacket not hiding her big biceps, her dark jeans hugging her muscular thighs. She looked buffer than the last time they had seen each other. 

That was, assuming she _was_ Carol. 

“What do you remember?” 

“I… don’t think this is a conversation to be had right now. That little girl is coming up to us, by the way” 

Maria turned around so quickly she got whiplash. Monica was running towards them, only stopping when she got close enough to hug Maria’s hips. 

“Are you really aunt Carol?” she asked, all bright eyes and childish smile. It broke Maria’s heart all over again. 

“Err, I’m… I don’t-” 

“Monica, why don’t you go ask the nice lady at the counter for a milkshake? Here’s the money” 

“Yay, milkshake!” and off she went. 

“Is she your daughter?” The Living Ghost asked, a warm smile on her face. 

“Yeah, my Monica. It’s her sixth birthday today” 

“She seems really sweet” 

Maria could only nod, her throat not allowing her to talk. 

She could feel tears in her eyes, so she did her best to keep them inside. 

“Well, it’s been nice catching up with you, but I have to go now” Maria said, not looking at the woman before her. 

“Oh, yeah of course, I understand” she sounded disappointed. Probably. Or maybe Maria was just imagining things. 

“But how about we meet up here, tomorrow? I get off work at six, I can be here by half past” 

_Now why had she said that?_

“I would like that, yeah. So… tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow” and after that, the ghost was out the door and Maria was left alone to deal with a world that was now upside-down. 

“Would you like a milkshake too?” she heard. She didn’t think the question was meant for her, but Angie over the counter wasn’t looking at anybody else. 

“You look like you need cookies, too” 

“You know what? Yeah, yeah I do” 

The next day, Maria was at the coffee shop again, this time alone. She sat at a table drinking her herbal tea, dread creeping up in her heart, she didn’t even know why. So, to distract herself, she looked over the shop, people-watching. 

The young girl at the counter was leaning over to kiss another young girl, a smile on her face. The other was holding a leash with a one-eyed Golden Retriever, its tail wagging like it was the best day in the world. They couldn’t have been more than 18 and Maria felt kinship for them, two teenage girls in love. They reminded her of her years in Academy, except back then DADT had still been a thing. 

A blonde woman she had seen a few times behind the counter was rushing out of the shop to meet two other women, hugging them both tightly. They kissed her on the cheeks at the same time. It was really sweet. 

She was about to turn her eyes away from them when she saw her own personal ghost walking up to the shop, the same jean jacket as the day before, but a different t-shirt and no baseball cap. 

She waved at Maria as soon as she saw her, then she headed to the counter to order. 

When she got back, she was holding two plates with two different kinds of donuts. 

“I thought you might like the strawberry jam donut. The unicorn one is for me… Unless you want it?” 

Maria did not want the unicorn donut, but she felt like crying all the same because strawberry jam was her favorite and Carol knew that without even remembering her. Or perhaps she had told somebody at the coffee shop and they remembered and advised it to Carol. 

“Strawberry is perfect. Thank you” 

There were a few minute of awkward silence, after that. Maria wanted to ask so many questions, but she was afraid of the answer. She was afraid that there was nothing left of her best friend and lover in the person in front of her. 

“The first thing I remember is a fire. I think I passed out, because then I remember waking up in a dark place, tied up” 

Carol had started talking, unprompted. Maria was scared to interrupt, but terrified of what she might hear. 

“I can’t tell you much about my time in there. I don’t even remember a lot of it. When the Kree got me out, I was a mess. I didn’t know what to do, so I followed them. They had saved me, after all. They must have been good people, right?” her chuckle was so sad it felt like a chainsaw in Maria’s heart. 

“I worked with them for years. They called me Vers because I couldn’t even remember my name. We did missions together, we were friends. My boss always encouraged me to work harder, to be better. I wanted him to be proud of me. 

“Then, about two years ago, I was sent on a mission. I can’t tell you the details, but-” she had to stop, then, to breathe for a moment. Maria wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but she kept still. 

“There was a man. He was-he looked just like I suppose I did when I was a prisoner. Those people - Jesus, those monsters - they were torturing him and, listen, I wasn’t sent there to free him. I was sent there to help _them.”_

_Oh my God_

Maria was helpless to fight the urge to gently caress Carol’s forearm. The blonde woman was crying, but she was obviously trying to push through, like the fighter Maria remembered. 

“He was innocent and he wasn’t the only one there. There were _children,_ Jesus. Children. They looked at me and probably didn’t even realize I was there. So I did the only thing I could: I helped them escape. I took everyone I could save to the American embassy. I haven’t seen them since” 

Carol dried her eyes, despite the tears that kept coming. Maria held her hand throughout it all. 

“Do you know who you are?” she couldn’t help but ask. 

“At the embassy, they got the children back to their family - the ones who still had them - and helped me and the other man find our identity. He was a little like me, he could barely make sense of the shit he remembered, but we got through it, I think. We relearned our name. 

“I know that mine is Carol Danvers. His recovery was quicker than mine, because when we got out he remembered everything. I think he still had family somewhere. I still have troubles, but…” 

“But you know me” 

“I do. That’s why I’m telling you this. I don’t even remember your name, but I know that I trust you” 

Maria was in tears, then. She got up and hugged Carol as tight as she could, both women crying. The other clients were probably looking at them, but they didn’t care. 

“I want you to meet Monica, if that’s okay with you” 

“I would love to, she seems so adorable. Tell me about her?” 

So she did. 

When they walked out of the shop, they were headed towards Maria and Monica’s small studio apartment, many hardships ahead of them but so, so much love. 

  
  


4.

Peter had started working at the Queen’s Bean when his aunt May had been in between jobs and they had been in a tight spot, money-wise. 

Now they were doing mostly okay, they still weren’t rich but they made do. They were happy and aunt May was always welcome to get free coffee at the shop, as promised by Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Martinelli, Peter was such a nice young man, so sweet, it was a pleasure to have him around, Mrs. Parker, you can come around anytime and get anything for free. 

She rarely used her guardian privilege, but sometimes she stopped by to say hi to Peter with her usual tight hug (“Aunt May, stop, there are _clients”)_ and gossip for a while with the shop owners. 

It was one of those times when she was laughing with the women at a table and Peter and America were taking care of business. She never told him what they talked about, which worried him to no end. What if they were exchanging embarrassing stories about _him?_

But, he reasoned, there were plenty of gossip-worthy things that happened at the shop, right? They weren’t necessarily talking about him, not specifically, anyway. 

Besides, his aunt had gone back in the dating field lately, so maybe that was the conversation topic that afternoon. 

He must have looked terrible, because America clapped a hand on his back, nearly making him double over. Geez, she was strong. 

“It’s okay pal. You know they’re just old people having fun where they can” she said wisely, all the way up from her 17 years of life. 

“They’re not that old… are they?” He knew his aunt May was 49, they had celebrated her birthday just last month. But how old were Peggy and Angie? They looked young, but they acted like everybody’s grandmothers, feeding them and taking them in like stray cats. 

“Who knows? Does it matter? Does anything matter? We might die tomorrow” America sentenced, sarcasm almost physically dripping down from her words. 

“Hello and welcome to the Queen’s Bean! What can I get you?” She then told cheerfully to the gaping customer who had probably been standing at the counter for a minute or two. 

His sophomore year at college was hard and forced him to go around with a book in his hands almost all the time. Paradoxically, the only moment he could relax a little was when he was working at the shop. It was mostly frequented by regulars, with only the occasional asshole, so he really couldn’t complain even when the workload made him want to curl up in a corner and cry. 

Besides, even college had been going good, he was mostly keeping up with the courses and he liked the subjects, despite feeling like dying of fatigue every other minute. 

It was great, really. 

Much better than high school, when he’d been dealing with a sore throat all the time, constant hunger and an incredibly inconvenient libido because of T on top of everything school-related. 

He felt so much better now, physically, much more comfortable in his own skin. He could live with college stress, he told himself, he had gone through so much worse, what the hell was a mental breakdown every now and then and a coffee addiction? 

Peggy found him in the bathroom, crying, with his _Technologies of materials_ manual abandoned on the floor. 

She grabbed the book, helped him up and rubbed a hand on his back while walking back towards the back room, all without saying a word. She looked at Angie, who nodded and began making chamomile tea. 

He found himself with a warm ceramic cup in his hands in no time, sipping slowly, an untouched brownie on the plate in front of him. 

“Perhaps you need to take a few days off, my darling boy” Peggy said, gently touching his arm. 

Peter supposed it was the right decision. Peggy was much wiser than him anyway, so she probably knew better. 

He could see Angie at the counter serving a milkshake to a young girl with a big grin on her face, two women behind her. 

Yeah, he thought, they could handle things perfectly without him. 

So Peter didn’t go to the shop for a whole week, only getting out of his aunt’s house to go to lectures or to see his friend Ned. It was still really stressful, he was still working hard on his assignments, but at least he didn’t have to go to work every afternoon. It was a small improvement. 

He managed to sleep more every night, his nervous breakdowns going down to once a day. He was starting to think that a healthy sleep schedule would really make a difference. 

When he felt well enough he went back to the Queen’s Bean. He walked in at 3 pm feeling refreshed. Angie smiled at him from the counter and immediately went to hug him. 

“You look good, Peter! Peggy, come see our dear boy, he looks so nice!” 

“He does, indeed. Now that you’re back, Peter, I would like to discuss with you some changes in your contract” 

And with that, his blood ran cold. 

Did they want to fire him? 

Had they been lying when they told him it was okay to take a week off? Did he mishear and got to work days too late because he was never meant to stay away more than three days? 

He was beginning to spiral down, which of course was noticed by the two women, who looked worriedly at each other. 

“It’s okay Peter, you’re not in trouble. Come with me to my office, we can talk there. Would you like something in the meantime? Some water?” Peggy was talking in her soothing voice, the one he and America secretly called her “grandma voice”. He shook his head and followed her. 

“Peter, darling, we couldn’t help but notice that your health has been deteriorating lately” 

_Mrs. Carter, you are not my doctor, nor my guardian._

He didn’t say that out loud. Aunt May would have sensed it and whooped his ass as soon as he got home. 

Not that she’d ever done that, but she could be scary when she was angry. Mrs. Carter could be even scarier. 

She didn’t look scary, at the moment, so she probably wasn’t angry. Not at him anyway. He hoped. 

“We thought that it might be better for you if you only worked for a few days a week, instead of every afternoon” 

_What?_

“But, Mrs. Carter, ma’am, I can’t! I need the money! And I like this job, please don’t fire me!” 

“No one is firing you Peter. And I’m thankful that you like this job, it makes me really proud, but you must recognize that your body and your mind are disagreeing with you. I don’t want to be responsible for your premature departure, son” She said the last bit with a small smile, as a joke, but he could see that she was really worried. 

And she had called him son. It had had an effect on him which he really did not want or need to explore right then. 

“Alright, Mrs. Carter, ma’am. I can work three afternoons a week” 

She smiled then, pleased. 

“How many times to I have to tell you to call me Peggy?” 

His new routine began and, he had to admit, he was feeling a lot better, also thanks to his improved sleep schedule and the app he had installed which reminded him to drink water with a chirp and a “Stay hydrated, bitch!” in Keanu Reeves’ voice. 

His mood had been much happier, too. He was also feeling more focused during classes. Self-care was _great._

He hadn’t yet been able to meet the person who was working in his place on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, but he really wanted to. He was just curious. He hoped whoever they were, that they would do a good job and make Peggy and Angie proud. 

He decided to come to the shop that Friday afternoon, so he brought Ned with him as emotional support. 

“You sure you wanna do this, pal? You’re not gonna feel jealous or anything?” Ned asked him while they were walking down the street after getting out of the subway. 

“Nah man, I’m okay. Just curious. And I wanna make sure this person is, you know, nice” 

“I’m pretty sure your boss is the one who needs to make sure of that, not you” 

“Whatever man, let’s just go”. 

The bell chimed when Peter opened the door, as usual. Sharon waved at him from the counter, then she went back to chatting with Bucky before giving him his two blueberry muffins. Bucky said hi to the newcomers with his typically soft voice and an equally soft smile, a dopey look in his eyes as he made a beeline for the table where Steve was absently drawing on his sketchbook. 

Peter felt a warm bubble in his chest when Bucky kissed Steve on the cheek before sitting down. It had taken them so long to get together, it was just really pleasant to look at them being knowingly in love. 

He was turning back to the counter with a smile on his face, when Ned hit his arm hard. 

“What the fuck dude?” 

But Ned wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at the person behind the cash register. 

Michelle Jones was ringing up a customer with her stone-cold face. She looked up when she finished pressing keys on the device, her eyes meeting Peter’s. Her lips curled up for half a second before she went back to the client, a buff-looking blonde woman, who then gave a thumbs up to the other woman and the young girl at a table. 

Peter steeled himself and went to the counter. 

“Parker and Leeds, it’s so mundane to see you here. How can I help you?” she said with her toneless voice. 

“Uh, we can, uh, get… uh. A sandwich?” 

“How about you go seat over there and come tell me when you’re sure?” 

Ned dragged him away before he could make more of a fool of himself. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t know it was her” 

“I did not” 

Michelle Jones was the coolest girl Peter had ever met. She was a sophomore at NYU, same as him, but she was in social studies. It wasn’t unusual to see her at the art building, though. Peter was in biotechnologies so he wasn’t exactly in her circle of friends. Not that she ever seemed to be around anyone. At least not when they happened to meet. 

They didn’t have classes together, but they’d talked more than a couple of times because they were in the LGBTQ+ Students Club. There were lots of other people, so they didn’t always get a chance to, but it had been nice, those few times. 

Even at the club meetings she never seemed to get close to anyone. 

Which was why Peter made a decision, right then and there. 

"Wait here" he told Ned, then off he went. 

"Hey, so I was wondering, would you like to come to the Arcade with me and Ned when your shift ends?" 

Michelle Jones looked at him with surprise in her eyes and thinned lips. 

"I… I don't know, it must be something, hanging out in such a nerdy place" she said, looking down at her shifting hands. 

"It's gonna be fun, Michelle, don't worry" 

"Fine, whatever. But don't ever call me Michelle again" 

"Jones, then?" 

"MJ is fine" 

They had fun that night and all the nights after that. 

  
  


5.

America knew that she was going to make it. She had busted her ass studying to get straight A’s, she’d lost sleep and sanity. But she did it. 

She got accepted at the University Of Hawaii, Hilo. She was going to study astrophysics in fucking Hawaii, thank you very much. 

She was on top of the world. Or, she would have been, had it not been for a small detail: the one and only Kate Bishop, her girlfriend of two years, had also been accepted in a great university and was going to study Aeronautics in Kent. 

America knew it didn’t really mean anything. They loved each other, they alway supported one another and were both so happy that their dreams were going to come true. 

She also knew that plenty of long-distance relationship worked fine. She trusted Kate and knew that Kate trusted her, so really, there were exactly zero problems with all that. 

So why couldn’t she stop crying on her pillow? 

When she came to work the next day, Sharon was giving a cronut and a kiss to Natasha, who then rushed out the door, presumably late to work. 

What did she even do for a living anyway? She never disclosed personal information with anyone and, when America had asked Sharon, the blonde woman had shrugged and replied “She works with the government”. 

America was half-convinced she was CIA or something. 

“Hey Carter 2.0” she greeted Sharon while putting on the work apron. 

“Hiya Chavez! Why the long face?” 

Wow, was she really that transparent? 

“Just school stuff. What’s today’s special?” 

The abrupt change in topic was sure to make Sharon suspicious, but she graciously chose to ignore it in favour of praising the new Arabian tea that had just arrived. 

The morning was uneventful, with the usual number of customers for a Saturday morning. MJ had come by to grab a sandwich during lunch time, before her classes started. America liked her, she took shit from no one and always laughed at America’s fatalistic humor. 

She was pretty sure MJ had a thing for Peter, but she never commented on it. It seemed to be requited anyway. 

It wasn’t until Peter came at 3 pm and her shift ended that she realized she hadn’t seen her bosses once, that day. 

America was on Clint Barton’s couch, Lucky on her lap and Kate’s head on her shoulder, watching some action movie she didn’t know the title of, when she started thinking about Hawaii again. It was supposed to be hot there, right? But her moms were always adamant about dressing in layers and they had never been wrong about it yet, so she made a mental list of all the jackets she owned. 

Lucky raised his head from Kate’s thigh, alert. 

“What’s that, Pizza Dog? is there an intruder or are you just hungry?” Kate said, scratching behind his ears. He whined happily and put his head back where it had been. America envied him a little. 

After a minute, they heard the window in Clint’s bedroom open and were instantly on their feet. Lucky didn’t seem worried, but he wasn’t exactly a guard dog. 

“Chavez?” 

“Yes, Bishop?” 

“If someone comes out that door, cover me. I’ll grab Clint’s spare arrows” and she silently lowered herself to discreetly open a secret compartment under the couch. 

Kate was an archery prodigy, proud student of one Clint Barton, and also his house-and-dog-and-plant-sitter when he wasn’t around, doing God knows what. 

America was watching the hallway, her shoulders tense, when a figure appeared. Kate was ready to shoot, but America had to stop her. 

“Natasha? What the fuck?” 

“Oh, hi girls. I didn’t know you would be here” her words sounded surprised, but her face gave away nothing. 

“I repeat: what the fuck” 

“Relax, America. I’m just here for a favor” she said, before calmly walking towards the front door. She opened it, to reveal a beaten up Clint, his hand holding his right side, several scratches on his face and a swollen black eye. 

Lucky was immediately licking all over him. 

“Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy???? You! You’re the best boy!!” he kept repeating to the dog while petting him everywhere, his knees bent and his spine carefully straight. 

“I assume you have questions” Clint said, a hand on Lucky’s head while Natasha applied salve to some of his cuts. 

“We do, actually. Did you know about this, Bishop?” 

“I did not, but I suspected something was up” 

America was watching Natasha with a frown. Was she with Clint? Had she been cheating on Sharon _and_ Maria all this time? 

Natasha seemed to notice and smiled at her, reassuringly. 

America didn’t feel very reassured. 

“Clint is like my brother. I know you suspect me of cheating, but I love my girlfriends very much and I love Clint just as much, although in a different way” 

“Aw, Nat, you’ll make me blush” 

“Shut up or I’ll make you swallow disinfectant, Barton”. 

Oh, yeah, now she could see that. They were just like brother and sister. At least, that’s what she thought, not having a sibling of her own. 

“So what the hell happened? Why are you like this, Clint?” Kate, asked, still frowning. 

“I’ve been asking myself that question for 42 years” 

“He had an unfortunate accident with a motorcycle and lost his keys. He forgot you two were here so he called me and asked me to break into his apartment and open the door” 

That made sense, weirdly. Clint Barton was a bit of a disaster, for what America had gathered in the two years that she had known him since dating his protegée. 

And apparently Natasha knew how to break into an apartment, which only went to confirm her CIA/spy theory. She was _so_ going to annoy Sharon into spilling the beans. 

Natasha winked at her before leaving Clint’s house. America didn’t know what to make of that. 

She didn’t see Sharon for a while, after that, so she eventually forgot about her plan. 

Next Tuesday, though, Peter came into the shop with a huge grin on his face, aunt May in tow. 

“I got an internship at SI, starting this summer!” 

Angie went to hug him as tight as she could, then she dragged May into it for good measure. 

Everyone was really happy. He even got congratulated by a few customers. 

Neither Sharon nor Bucky were at the Queen’s Bean that day, but she suspected they might have had a hand in making it happen. They were SI employees after all and she didn’t know how much influence they had, but she knew that Peter was incredibly smart and perhaps all he had needed had been a small push in the right direction. After all, they both cared a great deal about him. 

America found herself thinking that all the people she had befriended at the shop were somehow part of a family. 

The Queen’s Bean _was_ a family and she was sad to leave it. 

“Angie, can I speak with you for a minute?” she asked her boss, who was busy finding the perfect spot for a plate of fruit tart. 

“Sure sweetie, let me just… There! Perfect! So what do you need, dear?” she gave her her full attention. 

It was a special thing, being the focus of Angela Martinelli’s attention for a moment. She was so open and cheerful, so energetic, it was like being cared for by a Supernova. 

“I recently got my letter. I was accepted at the University of Hawaii” 

Angie’s face lit up, like it usually did when she received pleasant news. 

“Aw, but that’s wonderful! So why the long face?” 

“I… I’m sorry to leave this place. And Kate. I’m gonna miss everybody so much” and Angie looked so sad, so open, that America started crying and was immediately embraced by the older woman. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. Change happens and it’s not always easy, but you’ll always have a place here. This is a family, you’re a part of it as much as I am. And I’m 100% sure Kate is feeling the same as you about going to a different college. I know that if you work together, you can walk through fire” 

America felt so much better in Angie’s arms, enveloped in her motherly warmth, soothed by her certainty. 

“Thank you so much, Angie. I will always remember this” 

When she felt better she went back to work, but the sad smile Angie gave her as she got back to adjusting the tarts was like a hole in her heart. 

There was a weird energy in the shop. It was making her feel uneasy. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling it. 

Steve looked tense while he worked on his project, alone. Bucky must have been working late. He kept looking towards the counter, his eyes overlooking America to fall on the door that led to the office. 

Even MJ seemed a little on edge while she served a tuna sandwich to little Monica. 

Angie eventually came out of the office door, giving a small shake of her head to Steve. He nodded somberly and picked up his laptop, going straight to the office afterwards, without even saying hi. 

America and MJ looked at each other, worriedly. 

She realized that it had been a while since she’d last seen Peggy. 

“I’m worried that she might be sick” she said, hugging Kate tightly. 

“Hey, now, we know Mrs. Carter. She’s tougher than the Queen of England and much younger” 

“She could be an immortal goddess, for all we know, but it’s the first time she’s been so absent” 

“Are you sure? You’ve only worked there two years. She’s had the place for fifteen. It might have happened other times, just not that you know of. Perhaps it was just a bout of flu” 

America refrained from commenting that Peggy Carter had probably never gotten sick in her entire life. 

“Hey, America. I know it’s been hard for you these days, what with… everything. But you know that I’m with you, right? We can kick ass together, as usual” 

“But what if we’re not together anymore?” she asked, her voice small. 

“Are you breaking up with me?” 

“Not if you aren’t” 

“Well then, I think we’re settled. We’ll kick ass and we’ll do it together even from a distance” 

America kissed her on the lips, a smile slowly returning on her face. 

A few weeks passed, the SATs were over and America and Kate had both got a 100%, so they were partying at the shop to celebrate, along with Peter’s new internship. America was immensely glad that Peggy was there too. Her wrinkles had maybe deepened a little, but her eyes were as bright as the sun and her signature red lipstick was exactly where it should have been - except for a smidge of it on Angie’s lips and chin, but nobody commented on that. 

Bucky and Carol were sharing a fierce hug in the corner, under their respective partners’ happy, if a little tearful, looks. America wondered what the story behind that was. Peter, Ned and MJ were laughing with Sharon, Natasha and Maria. Kate was playing with Monica and Lucky, while Peggy and Angie were discussing in a darker corner of the room. They didn’t look happy, but after a while Peggy smiled and Angie looked reassured, embracing her wife. 

America was at the buffet table, letting Clint pour her and May a soft drink - or so he assured. 

She felt happy. She knew there were a lot of things to figure out still, but she had Kate and the rest of this weird, sappy family. Even if she was physically alone in Hawaii, even if it was going to be hard, she knew that she had everyone’s support. 

Besides, it was only a five hour flight from Honolulu to Kent. 

  
  


+1.

Someone had apparently gotten bored of the soft jazz music playing in the background, so the record that had been playing for a few songs was _Expectations_ by Hayley Kiyoko and, really, Angie couldn’t complain. 

Besides, a few young girls had come in the shop attracted by the music and they’d stayed, so it was a win-win. 

Angie suspected America had had something to do with the change. Apparently, the artist was really popular among young queers. 

America would be working at the store until the second week of August; then she would fuck off to Hawaii and live her science dream. 

Dreams were a funny thing. 

Angie had always wanted to be a Broadway star, but life went on unexpected ways: instead of making her the queen of drama, it had brought her her very own drama queen, who was currently sulking in her office over the ledger, like she had been for the past month. 

Angie grabbed a sandwich and went over to the office, not even bothering to knock. 

Peggy was actually sleeping, her head on her forearms, drooling on the pages of the damned ledger. 

Angie had loved that woman for over ten years, so of course she placed the plate down and dried the drool with a tissue, gently so she wouldn’t wake her up. God knew she needed the extra sleep. 

She said goodbye with a kiss on her forehead and went back to work. 

She didn’t like to show it, but Angie was worried and not only for their precarious financial situation. 

Peggy had been checking and re-checking the ledger, trying to make things work so that they didn’t have to cut on the staff. 

They really didn’t want to have to lower their employees’ salary, or worse, fire any of them. Sharon was already getting paid less than the others because she only worked there when she was needed and she already made enough with her other job, the details of which her aunts didn’t know. She had always just said that she worked at SI, but never disclosed her position. That was okay with them, as long as she was happy and healthy. 

America leaving for Hawaii was a bittersweet occurrence: they were, obviously, happy that she had been accepted in the college she wanted, but she was part of the family and it was sad to see her go. 

Her departure, however, would be an unexpected blessing, because it would have been good for finances. Except, summer was approaching and with it, longer hours and more customers, so they really needed the extra help. 

Angie was going to put up a sign, as soon as Peggy decided to get out of her own head. 

Because Angie was a little afraid for her health. 

It wasn’t good for her back to stay hunched over that damned book all day, she wasn’t sleeping well and she was barely eating enough not to fall over. 

So Angie did her best to help, however she could. She would sneak energy drinks and snack bars in her purse, bring her sandwiches in the office, open the shop in the mornings so she could sleep a little more. 

Angie didn’t want to lose the Queen’s Bean, but most of all she didn’t want to lose Peggy. 

She felt a little guilty, admitting it, if only to herself, but she would have closed the shop in no time if it meant Peggy being happy and healthy again. Except, Peggy would have never forgiven her; she couldn’t bear the thought of living with that. 

So she did what she could and she prayed to a God she didn’t believe in that her wife would be okay. 

Steve was probably as worried as she was, and so was Sharon. 

After her parents’ death, they had adopted her and treated her as their own. She loved them and Angie was grateful to have a niece - _a daughter_ \- like Sharon. 

Steve, although unofficially, was a little bit theirs too. His mother had been an affectionate client of Peggy’s parents and Steve had basically grown up at the shop. Peggy had told her one night, over a bottle of Pinot, that Steve had had a crush on her, a long time ago. It was really cute. He was a charming little guy, she had said. 

So Angie had silently recruited them in her mission to Make Margaret Relax, For Fuck’s Sake. 

Sharon had helped at the shop more in the last month and Steve had been over with or without Bucky several times, to help with whatever needed attention in the house or to just spend an evening together. 

She could see Peggy appreciated it, but her wife was always so reluctant to ask for help, with her stupid English pride. 

Angie was determined to see her mission succeed. 

But her plan was limited to making Peggy feel better. About their finances, she had no idea how to help. 

Sharon knew about their money troubles, of course. She had offered to lend them a sum until they could make it on their own. She even offered to buy the building so they wouldn’t risk being evicted because of gentrification - and Angie hoped they weren’t at that point yet - but her kindness had been met with anger from Peggy. 

Angie wasn’t happy to accept help from their niece, but she wasn’t above saying yes. Peggy, however, had other plans. 

The fight had been horrible to watch and it had resulted in Sharon leaving, the door slammed closed behind her, and Peggy throwing up dinner in the toilet. 

After cleaning up and brushing her teeth, Peggy had looked at Angie in such a way that made Angie helpless to defy the heat. 

They had fallen asleep tangled together and had woken up the same way. 

  
  


There is something to be said about Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter: they are two stubborn, hot-headed motherfuckers. 

So, when it looked like their attempts to help didn’t work, they gathered up everybody’s number and made a groupchat. It was mostly full of memes and vine-references, as well as tik tok videos, but no one could say they didn’t get shit done. 

When Angie went to open the shop, one morning, her sleepy eyes noticed a flier on the glass window. 

**_God save the Queen’s Bean!_ **

_Your favorite coffee shop might never serve you real British tea again if we don’t act now!_

_Call 202-555-0146 for info or donate directly to the shop’s GoFundMe page!_

Then there was a link, presumably to the GoFundMe page; below, a beautiful sketch of Peggy and Angie, holding hands, inside a giant cup of tea. 

Angie felt tears in her eyes. 

She loved them so much. She didn’t know whose idea it was and she didn’t care. It probably wouldn’t do much, but she was so grateful to have those people in her life. 

She opened the shop with a heavy heart and a smile on her face. When America and Peter came for their shifts, she didn’t say anything. She didn’t say a word even when Steve and Maria came for their usual coffee or when Sharon’s Maria came for lunch. 

But she was sure they could see the love and admiration in her eyes, because everyone’s smile felt a little warmer and their hugs lasted longer than usual. 

When Peggy came in, a little after lunchtime, her face was as red as her lipstick, her eyes were shiny, her lips so thin they almost disappeared. 

MJ, who was at the cash register, stopped ringing up the customer for a moment, stunned. Angie had noticed her furious wife walking in, but she kept casually chatting with one of their most affectionate clients, Thor, about his troublesome cat Loki. Apparently he had left again. It was a common enough occurrence that Thor wasn’t worried, but he thanked Angie for her kind words of comfort anyway. 

Angie didn’t stop cooing over Loki’s grumpy face on Thor’s phone even when she felt a piercing gaze on the back of her neck that made her struggle to contain her shiver. 

“Angela, darling, could I borrow you for a moment?” 

Oh boy, she never called her Angela. It must have been bad. 

She excused herself from her client and followed Peggy in the office. 

They fought, in hushed tones because, for once, they cared a little about what the other people in the shop could hear. 

Peggy was so, so mad. Angie couldn’t remember ever seeing her so furious, except that other evening with Sharon. It felt different, though, having all that anger directed at her. 

“We can do this alone! It’s our shop, Angie, they shouldn’t have to pay for it!” 

“Doesn’t mean we can’t ask for help, English! Why are you always so fucking proud?” 

“This is my job, Angie. I am trying to do my job. Not theirs. Mine. And yours, too. But it’s none of their business” 

“Don’t you trust them? Don’t you trust Sharon or Steve, at least?” 

“This is not about trust, bloody hell” 

“Then what is it about? What is your problem, Pegs?” 

She fell silent. Angie knew perfectly well what it was about: she was too used to thinking that asking for help was for the weak. She was also too proud to admit that even Margaret Elizabeth Carter could be wrong, sometimes. 

Peggy looked at her, her eyes unreadable. She didn’t back down. 

The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife, but Angie refused to give up. She loved her wife but that woman could be impossible, sometimes. 

But then, Peggy’s eyes changed. She seemed to deflate, guilt on her face. 

“Christ. I’m sorry my love. What the hell am I doing?” she covered her face with her hands and sat down on the desk. 

Angie slowly walked up to her, putting her hands on her lover’s hips. 

“I know you, English. I love you even when you’re stubborn as a mule” 

Peggy hugged her fiercely. Angie decided to wipe that devastated look off her face in any way she could. 

A few days later, Steve came in with a sad look on his face. He shook his head when his eyes met Angie’s and she was hit with the sudden realisation that their safe haven might really have to close. Perhaps, with some new ideas, they could have earned enough money to buy the building and maybe reinvent the place...

Sharon came in the shop looking smug as hell, Bucky in tow, looking sheepish. 

“Look, Angie, I know we should have asked first, but-” he started but Sharon cut him off impatiently. 

“There is a surprise coming for you in about 3, 2, 1…” and, right when Sharon and Bucky turned towards the door, through the glass a sleek black car became visible. A sharp-looking woman opened the car door. The bell chimed when she entered the Queen’s Bean, power-walking on her white heels. Her green blouse looked more expensive than Angie’s existence. 

“I am here to see the owners” she said smiling. 

“Uhm, sure, let me just walk you to our office, Miss…?” she trailed off, hoping to get the woman’s name. She was not disappointed. 

“Potts. I assume you are Mrs. Carter?” 

“Martinelli, actually. We kept our last names” Virginia Potts, aka the owner of Stark Industries, smiled at her. In her coffee shop. _Holy shit._

“Honey, there’s someone who would like to speak with us” Angie said, opening the door slowly as to not spook her wife when she was in her natural habitat. 

Peggy looked up from that fucking ledger and the shock became clearly visible on her face for a moment, before she managed to get a hold of herself. 

“I’ll go get some snacks. Any preferences?” she asked, silently apologizing to Peggy for having to leave her alone. It would be just a minute anyway, she was sure her beloved could handle herself. Besides, it was good host etiquette. 

“Anything is perfect but… I’ve heard a lot about your famous Cayenne pepper donuts” Miss Potts said, suddenly looking shy. 

“No problem, Miss Potts” 

“Pepper, please” 

Angie had to smile at that. A pepper donut for miss Pepper. 

She nodded, her lips curling upwards; then she left the room. 

“Holy _shit_ guys” was the first thing she said to Sharon and Bucky, who were now both looking sheepish, sitting at a table with Steve. 

“Don’t thank us until it’s over” Sharon said, grinning. 

Angie took the promised donut, made three cups of coffee and opened the office door, once again. 

Peggy was sitting behind the desk, her hands under her chin, listening carefully to what Pepper Potts had to say. 

Angie placed the tray on the desk and gave one of the coffees and the donut to Pepper. Then, she took the cups for her and her wife and sat down on the other chair behind the desk. 

“Now that you’re both here, I would like to explain to you my idea. A few trusted people have brought to my attention the situation of the coffee shop and, since they have been valiant employees for a while and Tony and I trust them quite a lot, we decided to intervene. 

“In a nutshell, Stark Industries would like to buy the building, thus extinguishing your debt. With that taken care of, it should be easier for you two to manage the shop without any problems” 

Angie couldn’t really believe what she was hearing. She turned towards Peggy, to make sure she hadn’t imagined any of it. 

Peggy looked like she was trying not to punch the desk. Or miss Potts, possibly. Perhaps Sharon and Bucky too. 

She hoped that it was only obvious to her and that their guest couldn’t see it. 

“I understand that it’s a lot to take in, right now. You might want to think about it some more. If I may… it is important to consider our offer seriously. We have every intention of helping the shop. You may be worried about the rent for the building, but I assure you, you have no need to. Stark Industries is willing to discuss the rent price with you, so that it is most convenient for you” 

Peggy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

When Virginia Potts left, after shaking hands with the owners of the shop, the Queen’s Bean was so silent you could hear a crumb drop. 

Peggy was looking down. She walked right out of the shop, calmly. 

Angie was leaning on the counter, watching her go. She could sense all eyes on her, after the door had closed. 

She kept her face blank for a moment, then a huge grin slowly crept up on her lips. 

The shop erupted into cheers. 

The next morning, before sunrise, Angie and Peggy were at the door, together. They were holding hands, about to open the Queen’s Bean, for that day and the many more to come. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/GalPalsButGayer) and on tumblr [here.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/just-gals-being-pals-but-gay)


End file.
